


In-Between

by Sehrezad



Series: In-Between [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, Kiliel babies, Kíli lives, Mirkwood, Miscarriage, Rivendell | Imladris, Tauriel becomes mortal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6785887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sehrezad/pseuds/Sehrezad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of little moments in the life of Tauriel and Kíli from the time they leave everything behind after the battle. Good times and bad times are ahead. There will be kids, old friends and new faces along the way… and the War of the Ring is approaching. (Kiliel)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything connecting to the books of Tolkien or the movies based on them._

_These are really just short pieces in chronological order. I don't have the capacity to write a complete story but I do enjoy spending time with these characters. And I think it works this way, too. I hope you'll think so, too. Enjoy!_

_Warnings for mentions of miscarriage. Please, keep that in mind._

_Just another thing: please, bear in mind that this is my little world I imagined based on the books and the movies. I tried to stick to certain facts (dates, for example) but I disregarded others (or I wasn't aware of them in the first place). I just want to ask you to accept that. Thank you!_

* * *

Tauriel's eyes popped open when she felt herself sway on the horse. She shook her head and steadied her grip on Kíli. He was still limp in her arms. But he was alive.

She knew that they should stop sometime soon but she was intent on putting as much distance as possible between them and that cursed place.

Her eyes began to sting just at the thought of what had transpired on Ravenhill. There was so much loss… so much devastation.

And yet, in the midst of all that tragedy, there was hope.

Hope for life.

Hope for love.

She thought she had lost Kíli but, by the grace of the Valar, he'd not been taken away from her. There was just enough life left in him for her to save him. And she did. She might never know what had really happened but two things were for sure: Kíli was alive and she became a mortal.

Thranduil witnessed the curious happening.

"Go," the king told her after a long stretch of shocked silence.

At first Tauriel thought he was sending her away. Valar knows, he had banished her. When she looked up at the man, however, there was something strange in his eyes. In all the turmoil that was storming in her soul, something fluttered in her. She was in no state, though, to think about it. She let him pull her off the ground, idly wondering how strange, yet familiar the gentleness with which he handled her was. She was on a horse then, and watched as the man hauled an unconscious Kíli into her arms. The last of Durin's heirs, he told her before bidding her farewell.

Thranduil's gentle look and lingering touch on her arm stayed with her even through her exhaustion, and in her hazy mind, she realized that in the moment of their parting, he wasn't a king letting one of his soldiers go, he was a father bidding goodbye to his daughter.

Her father.

Her heart ached just a little bit more.

* * *

"I don't want to go back," came Kíli's weak voice from where he was lying next to the fire. Tauriel turned to him startled. She'd been lost in her thoughts… or did she doze off? Quickly, she wiped her dampened cheeks then scrambled to him.

"Just rest, my love," she gently caressed his pale cheek with shaking fingers. "The decision cannot be taken lightly. You will see clearly when the pain is gone."

"I can see clear enough," Kíli protested as fiercely as he was able. "I'm the last of Durin's heirs. But I'm no king… and you're no dwarf. Going back means claiming the throne. Claiming the throne means forsaking you… because no dwarf would see an elf next to their king. I don't want either of those." His voice died away by the end and Tauriel watched with tear-filled eyes as his eyes closed. "Please," he whispered finally and a broken sob shook her body.

It was supposed to be easier for them.

Even in his dazed mind, Kíli knew what staying in Erebor would have meant for them... what Kíli simply being alive would have meant. Thranduil knew that, too.

And yet, even with a considerable distance from their homes, she was scared of what the future held. She was, after all, bearing the consequences of a love that might as well had been doomed from the start.

She gasped, a tortured sigh, and bent forward to ride out the pain.

She was breathing hard when she finally settled down next to Kíli.

For the longest time, she was lying awake next to him, listening to his breathing. She could hear when he regained consciousness again and yet, his voice startled her.

"It'll be all right." His voice was hoarse but it sounded stronger than it ever had since he first woke up. She buried her face deeper into his chest. She wanted to believe his words.

* * *

Kíli was sure that he'd never seen a more beautiful sight before.

Under the star-lit sky, Tauriel was sitting on the ground in front of him and he was sure that the twinkle in her eyes was putting the silver stars to shame. She was breathtaking… she was happy.

She was wearing his marriage braid he'd just put into her hair.

In the months following the battle – or rather in that time he was conscious enough – he grew increasingly worried about her. There was something clouding her beautiful eyes and as hard he might have tried, he wasn't able to coax the spark back to those beautiful greens. At times, he was afraid that she had regretted choosing the life they were living… being on the road, sleeping under the sky or at random guest-houses, trying to attract as little attention as possible. But there were moments when the shadows seemed to have lifted from her face and the spark had returned to her eyes. In those moments he knew that his worries were unfounded. She loved him and she loved roaming the world, taking in the wonders around her with sincere awe.

It was just taking time to adjust to their new arrangement.

It wasn't easy on him, either. However, he would be forever grateful to Tauriel for taking him away from the madness that his life would have surely become, had he stayed at Erebor. He was still grieving for his brother and uncle and he dearly missed her mother, but he knew that the life that awaited him in Erebor wasn't meant for him.

Tauriel was.

Maybe it was that line of thoughts that finally urged him to propose. Maybe it was the open happiness in Tauriels eyes that hadn't dimmed in a while.

That night they decided on staying in the forest, just the two of them. They settled down by the fire, not unlike they had done many times in the last couple of months, and after they had settled into a companionable silence, Kíli found himself playing with Tauriel's long curls and before he knew it, he blurted out his intention.

As an answer, Tauriel just settled down in front of him and he started working on her hair.

That was how he found himself face to face with the most exquisite creature in whole Middle Earth. His wife.

She leant forward and brushed a feather-light kiss on his lips before murmuring that it was his turn.

And while he was sitting in front of her, he decided that that was happiness: the sweet freedom to give an elf a dwarfish marriage braid and receiving an elfish one in return.

* * *

Kíli's heart was clenching in his chest as he watched Tauriel lying on the bed with her back to him. She was hurting. And while he could deal with the physical pain that made her body tremble, the emotional pain was tearing at his soul.

It was his pain, too.

Even though he was grateful that this time he wasn't lying around unconscious, he felt useless. He couldn't make the pain go away, though he would have given everything to bear it for her. And he couldn't offer comforting words. There was nothing to say.

Maybe that was the price they had to pay to be together.

The thought made his stomach revolt.

He gently lay behind her, carefully bringing an arm around her. He was relieved when she didn't flinch away from his touch and let out a shaky breath when she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her abdomen. There was a lump in his throat and tears were stinging his eyes.

"It will be all right." It was her who reassured him and he closed his eyes.

"I love you," he finally croaked and buried his face into her back.

* * *

"I love your ears," Kíli breathed against one as he was working on her braids. "They're so delicate."

That earned a chuckled from Tauriel. "They are actually quite big by elven standards."

"Lucky for you, I'm no elf."

"That you are not, my love."

They settled back into a comfortable silence as Kíli was working on her hair but Tauriel's gentle pondering broke the silence at last.

"I have never really understood why Thranduil stopped braiding his hair."

That was an odd topic to occupy her mind, Kíli wondered.

"I've never really considered it," he shrugged, finishing up a neat braid in her hair.

Tauriel smiled.

"I have never really paid much attention to it as a child," she started. "His hair was always beautifully braided, that much I remember. Just like I remember that he stopped wearing it like that when Nana died."

Kíli wanted to ask what the death of her mother had to do with Thranduil's hair but something in her voice stopped him.

"He and Nana used to braid my hair… and Legolas'… and he kept doing so after her death, too… at least for a while," she added in a voice that was filled with pain. "But I never knew who braided his," she said, touching the marriage braid that fall over her shoulder. "I think I understand it now," she turned around to smile at him.

He realized then that she was talking about the true love that the elven king and his wife shared… that her parents shared, and his heart swelled at the love that was shining in her eyes.

"Tell me about them."

* * *

Kíli was panicking, running in the cold woods as if possessed. He needed athelas. Why couldn't he find any? That cursed thing could live on the slopes of the Misty Mountains and yet, he couldn't find a single stem.

Why couldn't he find any? He cried out in frustration. He was so focused on the barren ground that he didn't notice the man in front of him.

It was the edge of his sword that made Kíli stop in his frantic search.

He gulped.

Then his features hardened. He really did not have time for this.

He had no weapon on him but he found he hadn't needed one. He was so worked up and in such a state of despair that, with mere brute force, he knocked the man towering over him off of his feet.

"I don't know who you are and I don't really care," he told the surprised man, lying under him stunned to immobility. "I have no time for this shit so what about we both continue on our way."

The man raised an amused eyebrow as Kíli climbed off of him.

"You are quite impetuous even for a dwarf."

"Yeah, yeah," Kíli answered absentmindedly. He had already turned his back on him and started to walk off with his glance on the ground. He was already quite a distance from the man when he thought better of leaving him and turned back. He was startled by finding him only a couple of feet away from him.

"I need help," he admitted.

"I thought as much."

"My wife… We were attacked by orcs. She's injured. I have to find some athelas."

The stranger regarded him for a moment before indicating further up ahead. "I saw some patches further up north… by the stream."

Kíli broke out in a run towards the stream and he almost cried out in relief when he spotted patches of green near the fresh water. He gathered some into his hands then turned to hurry back to Tauriel, hoping against hope that it wasn't too late.

"You won't be able to heal her, you know," the stranger called after him and Kíli froze. He looked down at the plant in his hand and his heart sank. "It might help with something mundane but I hardly believe that's the case."

Kíli knew that. Of course, he did. But if he didn't try it, there was nothing else to do.

He was startled when the stranger put a hand on his shoulder. "Take me to her," he told him. Hope flared up once again in the Dwarf.

They quickly made their way back to their camp where Tauriel was lying under a heap of blankets, burning up with fever.

"She's an elf," the stranger stopped when his eyes fell on her. He sounded sincerely dumbstruck.

Kíli didn't have time for that. "Is that a problem?" he asked curtly, and maybe somewhat defensively that earned a small smile from the man. He shook his head and quickly started to work.

It was only after Tauriel fell into a peaceful slumber that Kíli left her side and went in search for the stranger who helped her. He found him a little further away, leaning against a tree.

He was momentarily surprised by how young the man was. Not even a man… just a lad, really.

"I am," he started awkwardly, walking up to him. "Quite impetuous, that is," he referred back to his observation from earlier. "Even for a Dwarf."

"You are not like other Dwarfs."

"What gave that away?" Kíli laughed, thinking about how stunned the lad sounded when he saw Tauriel. "It's Kíli, by the way."

"Aragorn."

**TBC**

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Just a little remark to the backstory: I imagine that the Company spent more time in Mirkwood than they did in the movie and I also assume that they had more time in Lake-Town, too. And as such, Kíli and Tauriel had more time together, too, so their relationship turned more serious even before the battle._

_nethon - young one_

* * *

"Here, _Nethon_ ," Tauriel brushed a hand over Aragorn's shoulder before pushing a wooden bowl in front of him. "Stew." Aragorn looked up at her with quiet desperation and Tauriel laughed. "Do not worry, _mellon_. Kíli made it."

"That's a relief," he gave her a wicked grin before digging in. Tauriel smacked him playfully before settling down next to him.

Life was strange, Aragorn pondered as they settled into a comfortable silence. When he set out of Imladris to assume his place among the Rangers of the North, he would have never thought that he would make real friends along the way.

And such odd friends they were.

He was lucky.

* * *

"Something is on your mind?" Tauriel sat down next to Aragorn.

For a long moment, Aragorn pondered whether he should bring up the subject he'd wished to discuss with her ever since a desperate Dwarf dragged him to an injured Elf and he healed her. He guessed it was as good a time as any.

He sighed.

"Is it really worth it? To give up your immortality for a man? To fade in grief when he inevitably dies?" He could see Kíli's head perk up on the other side of the fire. Maybe it wasn't a good time after all. "I'm sorry," he shook his head apologetically. "These are foolish questions and, really, none of my business."

"No. That is quite all right," Tauriel reassured her friend. "And no, I won't fade away. When the time comes, I will die… just like my husband." He saw the look the two of them shared over the fire but the meaning of it was lost on him so stunned was he by that revelation.

"You are mortal." It wasn't a question.

Tauriel nodded in affirmation with a small smile playing on her lips. "I gave up my immortality in exchange of Kíli's life. And to answer your question – it is worth every second of my mortal life… the good and the bad," Tauriel stressed and Aragorn had a feeling that his friends had their share of dark times. And yet, there sat an Elf next to him who was happy in her mortal life simply because she was living it with the man she loved "And to answer the question you wish to ask in earnest," she continued with a knowing smile. "If you truly love her, you should let her decide."

"And if you ask me," Kíli piped in. "She'll do as she pleases anyway. Women are bullheaded that way." He gave a loving grin to his wife. "All you can do is to love her… in every way possible," he finished with a wink.

Looking between the curious couple of Elf and Dwarf who'd become like family to him in the last few months, he started to believe that a life like that, however short that might be, is worth the sacrifice.

* * *

"Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea…" Aragorn started as the three of them stood in the middle of a deserted homestead near the River Hoarwell. "I love having you around and all…"

"But…" Kíli prodded.

"But… You really need to settle down."

The couple looked at each other quizzically.

"Look, when the babe gets here," he vaguely pointed in the direction of Tauriel's midsection. "And, really, even before that, it is the best for you if you stay in one pla…" Aragorn trailed off when he noticed their confused looks turn into something akin to fear. "You didn't know," he stated unbelievingly. Frankly, it was impossible not to know.

"We did," Kíli supplied tentatively. "We just haven't addressed the subject yet."

"I see…"

"I am yet to carry a child full term," Tauriel admitted in a small voice and Aragorn heart went out for the couple, understanding their situation.

"That is all the more reason for you to stay here," he continued in a more somber tone. "The North is not a safe place anymore but this homestead is as safe as it can get. I had words out to the other rangers that you are here. They will keep an eye on the are…" He was cut short when Tauriel pulled him into a fierce embrace.

"Thank you, _Nethon_ ," she said and Aragorn smiled.

"You will be fine, you'll see," he told them. Kíli still remained skeptical, Aragorn noted, but his eyes, too, turned hopeful when the Elf turned to him.

"It will be fine," she reached for her husband's hand when she left Aragorn's side. "I know it."

* * *

"Do you need any help with that?" a heavily pregnant Tauriel asked her boys, a bemused smile playing on her lips.

They looked at her taken aback from behind a pile of lumber.

"We have everything under control," Kíli declared, looking slightly panicked for Tauriel's keen eyes.

"Yes," Aragorn chimed in, trying to salvage as much dignity as possible. "We are almost done here."

"All right," Tauriel nodded absolutely not convinced. "In any case," she threw behind her back as she walked back inside the house. "I asked for a chest… not a raft."

* * *

"What are you smiling at?" Tauriel asked without looking up from the newborn in her arms.

"Just how beautiful you are," Aragorn said, pushing himself away from the doorframe. "And how curious it is to see an Elf looking at a Dwarf baby so adoringly."

"He is not all Dwarf, you know."

"All the more curious," Aragorn chuckled settling down on her bed, facing her. Tauriel gave him a radiant smile, this time giving him her full attention.

"He is such a chubby little thing, is he not?"

"Well, he took after his father all right," Aragorn agreed, noting the dark hair on the baby's head and his disproportionate ears that were undoubtedly dwarvish. "But I'd wager he'll have your eyes."

"My beautiful son."

It seemed Tauriel couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

"You are grinning like a half-wit," Aragorn observed with an amused smile as he and Kíli were roaming the woods. If it was even possible, Kíli's grin became even wider.

"It's a wonderful day, isn't it?"

"No," Aragorn observed. And, really, it wasn't. It was quickly approaching winter season and the weather was cold and damp.

"Oh, I don't know… just look at the sky… it's a beautiful shade of grey… and this persistent rain… Tauriel is with child… not to mention the mud, the mud is excellent…" Kíli was counting it off and Aragorn had almost missed it.

He was sure that the grin on his face mirrored that idiotic one on Kíli's.

But he didn't mind.

It was a wonderful day indeed.

* * *

"There you go, my treasure," Kíli cooed to his baby girl as he carefully wrapped her up in a warm blanket. He'd just bathed the newborn babe while Tauriel was sleeping with little Fíli next to her.

He marveled at the tiny creature in his arms. She was perfect. She'd got a blob of black hair that she shared with her brother but, unlike Fíli, she had a cute little nose and her ears seemed to be pointier, too.

He laughed in wonder when she let out a tiny yawn and almost seemed to burrow herself more into the blanket.

She was such a beautiful babe. His little Dís.

* * *

Aragorn was sitting on a blanket with baby Dís in his arms and Fíli kneeling by his side. He was keeping watchful eyes on the children while Kíli was out on patrol with the rangers and Tauriel was doing her chores around the house.

It was a peaceful spring morning – the hills of Ettenmoors clear in the distance – with him lounging in the sun while Tauriel washed the clothes nearby. Baby Dís had just woken up from her post breakfast slumber and Fíli was singing to her in the sweet voice of a toddler who could catch the rhythm of the old elvish song at times, but not the words.

It was endearing how the little boy doted on her sister.

"Where do your mind's eyes wonder?" Aragorn asked Tauriel when he noticed her gaze stare into the distance.

"To a brother I dearly miss."

"I am sure he is thinking fondly of his sister, too," Aragorn supplied, noting the sadness in the woman's eyes. He knew little about the reasons why his strange friends lived in hiding – although he had his suspicions – but he was sure there were things that were difficult to leave behind.

"I am afraid I lost his affections when I gave my heart to a Dwarf."

"Do not underestimate the bond between siblings."

"That was something I always trusted," Tauriel remarked as she hung a tunic on the line. "But as much as our bond had to endure," she continued, drying her hands on her skirt and walking up to him. "It seems even the strongest affections have their limits." She smiled lovingly at her son as she stroked his chubby cheek with a sad smile.

* * *

Tauriel melted into Kíli's arms with a contented sigh. They were lying under the star-lit sky, covered only by a light blanket.

It was wonderful. It reminded her of their days on the road when they could lose themselves in each other without any care in the world.

Those were beautiful times she'd forever treasure but now, with two children, these opportunities were precious.

For a brief moment, she wondered how Aragorn was managing with two young children but then Kíli's roaming hands required her attention and, for the rest of the night, it was just her wonderful… and all too cheeky husband on her mind.

* * *

It was the Fall Festival in town and Tauriel was walking cautiously next to Kíli who had little Dís harnessed on his chest. Not being used to it, the crowd made her somewhat uncomfortable, seeing that she very rarely ventured into town. It was usually Kíli running errands and doing odd jobs here and there… and making friends, of course. However, the general merriment with which the town folk was milling about made her less anxious.

Though it was a strange mixed crowd that populated the town, Tauriel still felt uneasy about revealing her elven heritage. It would do nobody any good if it had turned out that an Elf and a Dwarf was living just outside town. People talked after all.

Kíli spotted a group of Rangers, who were also visiting, and walked towards them.

"Adad, Nana, look!" As soon as the little boy spotted them, Fíli ran up to his parents under the protective gaze of his uncle.

"What is it, love?" Tauriel asked.

"I got a crown! Imma king!"

Her smile didn't falter but she could see the shock in Kíli's eyes.

* * *

"There are talks…" Legolas started with hesitation that was so unlike him. Aragorn lifted an eyebrow. "About half-blood children…"

"There're a lot of half-blood children around here." He hid his smile behind his mug.

"Elf-dwarf children," Legolas clarified. He must have been harboring the idea quite some time, Aragorn thought, and yet, he seemed stunned by the possibility. Legolas seemed stunned by a lot of things…

"That's… quite uncommon." He managed an indifferent shrug. "You curious?"

"I am…" the Elf started with a thoughtful look. "I am hopeful."

Aragorn acknowledged that with a crooked smile but said nothing.

"I had a friend, a long time ago. No, not a friend." His smile grew fonder, Aragorn noticed. "A sister."

"What happened?"

"She grew fond of a Dwarf. One of Durin's line. Quite tall for a Dwarf," he remembered. "But no less ugly… and boisterous." The scowl on his face made the other man laugh out but it quickly died when Legolas continued in a solemn tone. "She left the forest to follow him and was banished for that. The last time I saw her, she was grieving her fallen Dwarf after the battle at Erebor. She disappeared after that. Word is that she took her Dwarf with her."

"That sounds…"

"Unlikely. Whatever her feelings might have been, she would not have disrespected the dwarf custom that way, and would have let them bury him."

"What are you thinking, my friend?"

"I think the Dwarf was not dead. I think… I wish she had been able to heal him and, for some reason, they left Erebor and Mirkwood behind. I wish my sister was alive."

"Well, that is not all improbable." After all, there was a legend among Elves that couples, gifted with true love, can bring back their beloveds from the brink of death. But the cost is high and it is indeed very rare. "Highly unlikely but not improbable. But that would mean that she's…"

"Mortal. But alive and happy," Legolas concluded. "I wish for that."

Aragorn finished his mug then stood. "Come on, my friend."

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" Legolas inquired with guarded curiosity as they made their way in the early dusk of winter.

"Some years ago I happened upon a curious couple in the slopes of Coldfells. Good people… with a history I only dare to guess. The woman… I only ever saw that look that now shadows your eyes in her eyes. They live here now," he indicated the tree line not far from them.

Legolas looked taken aback as he glanced in the direction of the little hidden homestead with trepidation mixed with obvious anticipation. _That cannot be_ , he thought but in spite of his conviction, he urged his horse forward.

He was beyond nervous about what he'd find in the small house. His hopes were high and yet, he stood frozen behind Aragorn as they entered without knocking.

It was her. Slender and graceful as ever but looking healthier… and happier. And he could straight away spot the reason why. There was a dark-haired babe in her arms. She was gently humming to the babe while she simultaneously stirred something in a pot that was over the fire.

"You can come in, you know," she told her visitor without turning around that showed for just how familiar Aragorn was with her. It was only after she put a sleeping babe into her crib that she turned around to greet her friend.

She froze for a moment but then such a joyous smile appeared on her face which Legolas wouldn't have dared to hope for… not after the way they had parted so many years ago.

Both of them made a couple of steps towards the other which effectively made them stand face to face in the little kitchen area of the small house.

"Surely my eyes are playing tricks on me." He raised a hand to gently run the back of it over her cheek. "And yet… you feel real."

"Oh, mellon," Tauriel gasped, pressing his hand against her cheek with her own. That was all Legolas needed to pull her into a fierce hug they might have never shared before. Of course, they weren't the same Elves they'd been before, either. He certainly wasn't and it only took a look at his adopted sister to know that she wasn't, either. She was serene as ever, even if she was always prone to being rash, but now it seemed that contentment had settled on that serenity. She was happy.

"Just one step in the door and you're already groping my wife," a deep voice behind them made them leave the embrace and look to the owner of the voice.

Legolas blinked when his eyes fell upon Kíli… and a small figure hiding behind his legs. Then something akin to a smile appeared on his face. "I was right," he breathed disbelievingly not taking his eyes off of the Dwarf standing in the door, arms crossed on his broad chest.

He didn't seem too annoyed, though. If Legolas should guess, he looked cockier than anything else. That smug hairy little bastard.

"The last prince of Erebor," Legolas bowed his head, missing how Aragorn's brows rose in surprise.

"I'm no prince of anything," Kíli told him matter-of-factly, his assumed stance relaxing and a friendly smile forming on his lips. "But what I am – the man of this house," he started inside and patted the little boy on his back as he ran to his mother. "And it'd be awfully rude of me not to offer any hospitality so," he stopped in front of the elven prince. "Welcome to our home, Prince Legolas."

"I am no prince of yours," the Elf told him in turn and this time he was aware of the uncomfortable shift Tauriel had made.

"Then who you are, Elf?" And it seemed Kíli was, too, as he challenged him with twinkling eyes.

Aragorn and Tauriel seemed to have missed the subtle exchange between Elf and Dwarf as they themselves exchanged a decidedly worried look.

The corner of Legolas' lips turned slightly.

"A friend, I hope," he finally said, letting his lips form a smile. Kíli didn't need more, either, as he stretched out his arms in a friendly gesture.

"That we can agree upon."

"You must be hungry," Tauriel spoke up finally, relief evident in her voice. "I am making vegetable soup for supper. Please, join us."

Legolas looked uncertain so Aragorn patted him on the back reassuringly. "Don't worry, my friend. She is actually getting quite good."

* * *

Tauriel knew that something was on Aragorn's mind. She could see it in the way he was playing with the children. She could see it in his eyes as he'd been helping Kíli mending the fence. And she could see it in his smile.

He was saying goodbye.

"I'm leaving for the south," he started without any prodding when Tauriel sat down next to him and took Dís into her lap. "But my heart is light knowing that you are reunited with your brother."

Tauriel gave him an understanding smile, then she reached out and pulled his forehead against hers.

" _Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham, Nethon_ ," she whispered.

**TBC**

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

 

_Another round of remarks before the story: as for aging of the kids, I would say it is close to that of Dwarfs, though it is nothing like that of Elves (that's just freaks me out). That would mean that by the time of the War, they'd be considered still relatively young. As for Tauriel, she may be a mortal, but she's still an Elf so I'd say that she is aging in a rather slow pace. As for the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, I've just begun to taking a fancy to them and seeing that they spent a lot of time with the Rangers, I thought why not have them meet Kíli and Tauriel as well._

* * *

"Greetings, brother," Legolas walked up to Kíli who was lounging in the shade of the large oak tree next to the house. He was merrily puffing on his pipe… in the company of two familiar Elves. "Elladan, Elrohir. It is good to see you."

"Legolas!" The twins sprang up from their seats to give an enthusiastic hug to their friend.

"Aragorn told us that you are spending time in the North but we have yet to meet," Elladan stepped back to let his brother give a hug to the other Elf.

"He told us that you are practically shadowing him," Elrohir grinned.

"I am merely instructing him when it is needed."

"He might have told just that," Elrohir conceded.

"Come on, join us," Elladan invited him as he settled back to his seat. "We've just bought pipe weed from a Dwarf merchant."

"And how mighty good it is," Kíli exclaimed with a satisfied grin.

Legolas eyed the pipes in the Elves' hands warily. "Maybe next time…"

"Always says that," Kíli huffed.

* * *

Legolas watched as Tauriel practiced her dagger skills, the two blades moving in her hands as if they were a part of her. It was always like that. She tried the sword, the double sword and she was excellent with a bow. It was always the knife that she preferred, though. She liked getting up close with her enemy.

He smiled when he spotted Thoriel a little farther with two sticks in her hands, trying to mirror her mother's graceful movements.

That little three-year-old reminded him so much of her mother. Not yet entirely sure on her own two feet but hell-bent of becoming a warrior. And she was good, too, Legolas noted, because even though her little legs wobbled sometimes, her hold on the sticks was steady.

He laughed when he realized that Tauriel was spying the toddler from the corner of her eye and, slowly, changed her movements so that they would more befit the abilities of her ambitious daughter. It was adorable.

It was just like their father did when he caught them during his training sessions.

His laughter turned into a bittersweet sigh. Those were happy times. How many times was the mighty king of Mirkwood chastised by his wife for indulging the children too much… letting them run wild? How many times did he join them in mischief?

With Thranduil getting more and more lost in darkness, it was so easy to forget that under the cold façade there was a warm heart which, once upon a time, was beating for his family.

It was so easy to be angry at the man.

Legolas knew that it was particularly hard on Tauriel. Thranduil always doted on her – she was his little warrior princess. He taught her everything he knew about fighting and Legolas knew he was proud of her. He was proud of both of them. But then their mother died and their father closed off to the outside world to which their children weren't exceptions, either, because no matter how much the man loved his children, it was his wife who truly lit up his life.

They knew the reasons behind the walls he built not only around his heart but around his realm as well. They recognized the desperate need to keep everybody safe… to keep himself safe. They understood it. But it was hard to accept. Legolas chose quiet resignation. It was easier for him, after all he was the heir - the male heir - and as such he enjoyed relative freedom. Tauriel, however, went head to head with her father - she would not be closed up in an ivory tower. Unfortunately Thranduil was a stubborn one, not unlike his daughter, and in his misguided need to keep her safe, he made her choose between family and a life she was born to.

He had brought her up as a warrior… and disowned her because of her being one.

He knew she'd never stopped loving their father. And he constantly wondered about it. He loved him, of course, but he was too angry and too disappointed most of the time to acknowledge it.

"What bothers your mind, Legolas?" He was pulled out of his thoughts when Tauriel sat down next to him with Thoriel. The little girl promptly climbed over into his lap.

"I was just reminiscing about the old days when everything was… brighter."

"You were thinking about Adar?" Tauriel asked surprised. That was not a subject he liked to bring up.

"You know he used to do the same thing you just did with Thoriel."

"I remember," she smiled fondly at the memory. "I also remember his face when Naneth found us trying to use his swords."

"He found that amusing if I recall it correctly." At the time Thranduil's twin swords were not much shorter than the little Elflings trying to wield them.

"Naneth definitely did not think so."

"I wonder sometimes how it would be if she were here still."

"You know there is no use doing so," Tauriel gave him a sad smile. "We are here now and we cannot change that. But for what it is worth, I think Adar is trying to change."

"I have yet to see that," Legolas told her and when he saw that she was trying to continue that line of conversation, he quickly changed the subject. "So, when are you planning to share the good news?" Legolas asked, nodding towards her obvious baby bump.

"Is it really that obvious?" Tauriel blushed. Legolas raised an eyebrow. "I believed it was too early yet."

"Maybe you are having a real elf-sized baby this time," he grinned.

"I don't know. Thoriel looks like an average Elf babe." That was true. Despite her young years, the toddler was lean and definitely taller than her siblings were at that age. She also had a much fairer complexion than that of the other two.

"Then you are having an elf-sized Dwarf."

That was a frightening thought.

* * *

"We should move," Kíli stated solemnly as he watched her wife cradle their sleeping son. Fíli looked so small in his mother's arms.

"We cannot go," Tauriel answered in a low voice. "Not now." Of course, Kíli knew that. The roads were dangerous as it was with Orcs crawling around in alarming numbers. Packing up a family with four small children, among them a babe and a gravely injured one, would be foolish. Yet, Kíli felt that he had to do something.

He was losing his wife.

The light was fading from her eyes more and more every day and it filled him with dread.

He'd never seen her in so much dispair.

No matter what fate would throw into their way, Tauriel bore everything with never-ending patience. And Mahal knows, they had their share of heartaches all through the years. She was one of the strongest women he had ever met. She gave him life when he was at the brink of death. She took the road with him while he was still hardly conscious most of the time, all the while dealing with the pain of losing a child. And when they lost their second child, Kíli saw his wife taking the pain – both physical and emotional – in silent agony.

But she took everything in stride. She looked to him for support and she persevered. She'd never given into despair, always finding something to hold onto.

And he himself always found strenght and courage in the light that shone in her eyes.

That light was taken over by sheer panic when their son was struck down by an Orc in their own home.

The look in her eyes that night chilled him to the bone.

And to make things worse, there was the guilt he shared with her. They should have been able to keep their family safe. They should have been able to shelter their children from the darkness that lurked around them.

They failed… and Fíli paid the price for that. His left leg was crushed leaving their lively child crippled. And leaving them with a constant reminder of what they had failed to do.

"Legolas will be back in two moons," Tauriel added silently. Kíli nodded.

"I'll try to send a message to Elladan and Elrohir. With them, we can go."

* * *

The Orcs came again.

Ever since the first attack, Kíli and Tauriel were taking turns for watch and some of the Rangers were popping up more frequently, giving them updates about Orc movements.

So it didn't take them unawares. And yet, Tauriel found herself frozen to the ground when she heard the footsteps in the woods. Suddenly she didn't know what to do. Should she run back to the house? Or go and check on the numbers of the intruders? All the possible scenarios were running through her head but all her thoughts were jumbled by one single question: how could she keep her children safe?

She simply couldn't find the best option and the fear that they could get injured or worse kept her immobilized.

On their own accord, her hands found her knives and she pulled them. The feel of the solid handles in her hands made her realize that she'd never feared the Orcs before. She had always fought them with steady spirit and sure hands, focusing on one single mission – getting the world rid of that filth.

With that thought, her features hardened with determination and something dangerous shone in her eyes. In that moment a pack of Orcs appeared from the tree line and Tauriel knew that she was out of options. With a loud cry that she hoped would alert Kíli, she started towards the foul creatures and started killing them one by one.

Kíli found her in the middle of a bloody mess of Orc corpses, posture straight, daggers in hand... and her eyes alive with renewed purpose.

No Orc would lay a dirty hand on her children. Not again.

Two days later, Elladan and Elrohir arrived and they started their journey westward.

* * *

Legolas was beginning to panic.

It was the first time for him to stay alone with Kíli and Tauriel's children. He loved the children. They were adorable and always fun to be with which Legolas sorely needed these days.

Being left alone with them turned out to be something else, though.

Things were getting out of hand at an alarming speed.

It'd been already the fourth time that he got an axe out of the two-year-old Angion's hands. It didn't matter where he put the dangerous weapon, the toddler always could get his hands on it. And if it wasn't an axe, it was something equally dangerous and made the Elf's blood run cold. And if there was nothing sharp-edged, tipped or otherwise dangerous to get a hold on, he would throw random things into the fireplace.

At least the two eldest children seemed to contend themselves by sitting peacefully. Dís was drawing by the table while Fíli was carving a piece of wood with surprisingly apt movements for an eleven years old. As much as the two eldest children were like Dwarves, their calm dispositions were like those of Elves. At least until Angion hadn't thrown one of Dís' drawings into the fire. There was nothing remotely elvish about the way the little girl reacted.

Thoriel wouldn't sit in peace like her older siblings, either, and she spent the time climbing on everything and anything where she could find a purchase. Normally that wouldn't bother Legolas that much. Elf children had an exceptionally good balance. He and Tauriel pulled their own stunts in their time, too. They were firm on their feet and had a steady grip… they had the build and the disposition of an Elf which, Legolas had to admit, Thoriel didn't fully possessed. As much as she looked like an Elf, she had a good amount of dwarven blood in her. And Legolas wouldn't trust a Dwarf to keep balance when her two feet was not steady on the ground. There was a reason for them being short and stuffy, he believed. And what if the little girl seemed absolutely confidant? It had never hurt to err on the cautious side.

So Legolas spent the better part of the day running after Thoriel and getting her off of things and hurrying to prevent Angion from burning down the house or injuring himself otherwise. Sometimes he did the two things simultaneously.

By the time the parents got home, he felt like he had aged a thousand years.

* * *

Kíli was beginning to think that playing hide and seek with his two youngest kids was not the greatest idea. At the time it surely seemed so. Tauriel needed to rest and while Fíli and Dís were old enough – and sensible enough – to understand that, Thoriel and Angion were bursting with hardly contained energy.

So playing in the woods seemed a good idea.

Not so much after an eternity spent by looking for the children.

He wasn't exactly worried. They had, after all, a strict rule regarding the distance the children were allowed to venture on their own. But he was a damned good tracker and he found it hard to believe that he'd lost his kids. It seemed to be the sad reality, however. He'd checked every bush and every stone. His ears picked up every little noise on the ground. And yet, after his fourth round around the homestead, he was forced to accept the fact that he had lost. The kids outsmarted him.

There was one thing he forgot to consider, he realized belatedly: his little Dwarves were just as much Elves as Dwarves.

He looked up.

And sure enough, the little rascals were perched on a thick branch, grinning down at him gleefully.

* * *

She was on the verge of crying.

She was an Elf, damn it, she thought. She could go days without proper sleep. She could walk for days on any terrain and in any weather without feeling the effect of it. And certainly she could keep her composure in any situation.

And yet, there she was, holding a crying babe and feeling utterly dejected and so much exhausted that even her limbs were protesting her every movement as she was trying to sooth little Mirel.

It was raining so hard outside that it woke up Mirel not long after Tauriel had just managed to get her to sleep. She was wailing so hard that Tauriel worried whether she could breathe at all. It wasn't looking good at all. Mirel was so worked up and Tauriel was so agitated that the two of them were just pushing the other to the limit.

Tauriel knew that she was unable to stop it. She was so very tired. She just wanted to sleep. She wanted Kíli.

But Kíli was out on watch with Fíli and he wouldn't be back till the morning.

The night had never seemed so long before.

When she was just ready to give up, her ears caught on a noise. No, it wasn't a noise. It was singing, starting out silently but slowly growing into the deep and rich voice of her eldest daughter. And it was soon joined by the even deeper one of Angion and the bell-like voice of Thoriel.

Tears sprung into her eyes as the children were singing from their beds the song she used to sing to them when they couldn't sleep. The same song her mother used to sing to her and Legolas.

She joined the children, though she was too tired to form the actual words. She hummed silently until the siblings slowly sang their young sister into sleep. Then carefully, she placed Mirel into her crib and she all but fell into bed.

In the morning, when Kíli climbed into bed next to her, she only stirred to wrap herself around her husband, then she was back to sleep.

* * *

"You seem worried," Legolas remarked amused as Tauriel and he made their way back from town.

"I am just being silly," she dismissed him.

"It is not foolish to ponder the fact of impending doom when you leave your husband alone with the twins."

"And you are of no help here," she chided the Elf playfully. In truth, Tauriel was indeed apprehensive about what she had just got herself into when she left the children with Elladan and Elrohir… and Kíli of course. Those three were never up to any good she came to quickly learn after Aragorn had introduced the elven twins to them.

When they stepped out of the trees by their house, prepared for anything, they stopped taken by surprise. Legolas arched an eyebrow while Tauriel's eyes lit up with an affectionate, if startles, smile.

Children and adults alike were sitting in the grass in a row one behind the other and they were deeply engrossed in braiding the hair of the one sitting in front of them.

It was Fíli sitting at the end of the line braiding Dís' raven black hair, seeing that he usually wore his dark hair shorter than the others, wearing braids only in his beard. Dís was making intricate dwarven braids into Elladan's long hair while the Elf was working on his brother's locks. Elrohir in turn had just finished a neat elvish braid in Thoriel's auburn curls. Angion seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that her sister was making a carnival clown out of him while he was merrily braiding Mirel's soft curls. Her youngest daughter's hands weren't idle, either, as she was trying to braid her father's dark hair but only managed, as it seemed, to make a mess of it. But Kíli was taking it with the patience of a doting father while he himself held Mirel's doll in his hands, braiding its hair as instructed by his baby girl.

They were surely a sight to behold.

"I figured I had to keep their hands busy," Fíli offered as a way of explanation when he noticed his mother and uncle.

Valar bless her always sensible son.

* * *

The sun was already coming up on the sky when Kíli stirred as Tauriel slipped into bed next to him.

"Good morning, love," he mumbled as he buried his face into her neck.

"Good morning."

"How was the night watch?"

"Blissfully uneventful," she gently stroked his messy curls. "We spent most of the night running through the forest," she shared with a dreamy smile, remembering how she, Elladan and Elrohir were jumping from branch to branch. "Not the Mirkwood but there are some beautiful large trees to climb."

"Elves."

"Fíli is already up working in the barn. I made breakfast so you can eat before you go out. And I thought I would just lie here with you just for a little while."

"Excellent idea."

"Although I think it would not be too long before Angion wakes up."

"I bet he's already up," Kíli chuckled.

"He is really excited about his first watch."

"To put it mildly," he grinned up at his wife with an adorable sleepy look. "And now kiss me good morning before he breaks the door down."

* * *

When the little homestead came into view, a joyous smile appeared on the man's face. He got off his horse and made the remaining distance on foot.

"Who are you?" The young woman, working in the small garden, turned to him with a distrustful look as soon as she heard him approach. She had black hair and a proud bearing. She looked around twenty or something, but it was always hard to tell with these folks.

The man stopped and opened his mouth to answer and state his purpose when two other figures appeared. Two men around the age of the woman, who was currently frowning at him. One was tall and lean with black hair and the other was shorter, sturdier, with a somewhat lighter complexion. They looked like two sides of a coin and yet, they couldn't be more similar.

They approached the woman – one with a limp, the man noted – and stood protectively in front of her, which only earned an indignant huff from her. The man smiled.

"I am…"

" _Nethon_ ," came the answer from somewhere behind him and he smiled.

"I'm getting too old for that endearment." He turned to his dear friend and held out his arms as Tauriel walked into them.

" _Gi suilon, mellon_ ," she finally said, letting him go and pressing her forehead against his as a greeting. "My heart sings to see you again."

"It's been too long, Tauriel," the man agreed.

"And whose fault is that?" came an indignant voice from behind the couple. A bemused smile played on his lips as they parted, and he looked towards the voice.

"I'd have been here earlier if you lot hadn't had packed up and moved away, Master Dwarf."

Kíli pondered it for a while before a huge grin broke across his face. "Fair enough, Strider. Fair enough."

"Good to see you, my friend," Aragorn walked up to the man and they shook hands. "I can see, you kept busy," he remarked with a bemused undertone as he looked around.

When he left the pair to travel south, two dark-haired rascals were running around and causing havoc, even though one of them could barely walk at the time. Now the only little one was a tiny little thing hiding behind her father.

"Oh, we're always busy," Kíli wriggled his eyebrows as a chorus of groans and scoffs broke out.

**TBC**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for now. Thanks for reading!
> 
> I don't know whether you need it to follow the events but here are the most important dates so far:  
> Battle of the Five Armies - 2941  
> Kíli and Tauriel meets Aragorn in 2951  
> Birth of Fíli – 2953  
> Birth of Dís – 2955  
> Aragorn leaves for the south around 2957 and returns around 2982  
> Birth of Thoriel – 2958  
> Birth of Angion – 2962  
> Birth of Mirel – 2972


	4. Chapter 4

 

_If you are interested, I started a new story where I will collect those little one-shots that are missing from this story, or those that are taking place before this one. Give it a chance if you feel like…_

_Sorry for the mistakes!_

* * *

After tending to his horse, Aragorn left the barn to smoke a little before looking for Angion. The boy had asked him to check out the sword he was making. A sword which, Kíli had already told him proudly, was a masterpiece.

He'd already pulled out his pipe when his eyes fell on Mirel, who was sitting under the cart, hidden from the others' sight. Something was wrong, he thought with a concerned frown. After he first arrived, it quickly turned out that the shy little girl who was hiding behind his father wasn't all that shy after all. She was a lively little girl endowed with the cheerful nature of her father… and his recklessness, too.

So seeing her sitting all alone away from the others, worried the man.

He walked up to her and settled down by the cart, leaning against a wheel. He stuffed and lit his pipe without a word and only when it seemed that Mirel wasn't overly annoyed by his presence, did he speak up.

"What bothers you, little star?" he asked and waited patiently for an answer.

"I'm not like Dís or Thoriel," she told him in a pitiful voice.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"They are pretty… like Nana."

"You think you are not pretty?"

"Yes," Mirel sighed.

"Come here," he invited her to sit next to him. He watched the little girl clamber out from under the cart. "Let me tell you that you are absolutely gorgeous," Aragorn pinched her nose that earned him a self-conscious giggle from the little girl. "You don't believe me? Pretty has a lot of forms, you know."

"I'm pretty sure my ears are not one of them."

"Who said that?" Aragorn was sincerely taken aback.

"The boys in town. They are making fun of them. They are huge… like Adad's."

"Your Naneth likes his ears. I know," he leant in closer. "I heard her say that," he shared in a whisper before pulling the girl into a half-hug. "One day you will meet a boy who loves your big ears. Maybe he will have big ears, too."

"Like Fíli. His ears are huge."

"Like Fíli." Aragorn nodded with a smile. "Until then, don't pay attention to anybody who says you are not pretty. You are. You look more like your Naneth than you'd think."

* * *

Kíli decided that it was time to take a break from cleaning the barn, and after dumping a shovel of dung, he went to clean himself up somewhat. As he was drying his face, he took his time to watch his daughters, who were merrily chatting on the porch, their hands busy with something he couldn't make out.

It was such a rare sight, the three of them together sitting peacefully. Usually Thoriel and Mirel always got something to do and no time for… mending clothes, Kíli realized with a surprised chuckle. He wondered how Dís could have persuaded her sisters to join her. He wasn't even sure that his two youngest girls could do any needlework.

He walked up to them and plopped down in an empty chair next to Dís, wearing a huge grin.

"You smell," his daughter pointed out with a disapproving look. And not for the first time, he wandered how much his oldest daughter looked like her mother in bearing if nothing else. She had Tauriel's pale skin but where Tauriel was vibrant with colors, she had his darker countenance.

"I know," he declared, disregarding the look. "What are you doing?"

"I have no idea," Mirel admitted defeat as she threw the shirt into her lap.

"She has no patience for it," Thoriel smiled.

"And you have no patience for me," Mirel shot back, though she didn't sound much offended. Kíli smiled. It was always interesting to observe his youngest daughters. They were so much alike and yet, so very different. Thoriel was her mother's daughter through and through. The only thing she got from him was the dark brown of her eyes. She was a typical Elf in every other respect… at least as much as her mother was one. She was less composed as her older sister and she liked to run free just like her younger one. She was reckless like her parents but if need be, she had the infinite patience of Elves.

Not like Mirel. She had the mindset of Dwarves, though not the built. Even though she was short like Dís, she was lean. She was quick to do anything, though she had not the patience for most of the things… like sewing.

"Come here, little star," Kíli motioned for her and took the needle and the shirt when offered by a hesitant Mirel.

"You know how to do this?" Dís asked in disbelief that was mirrored on Thoriel's face.

"Of course I do," Kíli scoffed. "Who do you think mended my clothes when I was on the road with the Dwarves from Ered Lúin?"

"All these years, and you let Nana and Dís mend your clothes," Thoriel remarked bemused.

"They never complained," he grinned.

"Well, from now on, you are mending your own clothes," Dís laughed.

Well, damn.

* * *

Tauriel watched her younger son with pride. He looked so much like his uncle… so much like a Durin. But with the softer lines of an elven heritage. His broad shoulders were flexing with exertion as he was working by the anvil.

Many a time Legolas' words regarding her son returned to her: an Elf-sized Dwarf. How accurate he was! Despite his built, he was a Dwarf at heart.

He was passionate about his work. Tauriel wondered whether fire itself was flowing in his veins. That fire was showing in everything he did.

He was quick of temper and stubborn in his ways. But he had an open heart, always ready to trust but never to forget. He loved and hated in equal measure.

He was so much like his father.

Like Fíli, too, in many ways. But while Angion's passion burnt fiercely, Fíli was patient and level-headed.

He was special, she smiled, turning her attention to her other son, silently sitting in the corner of Angion's working area, his attention focused on a piece of wood in his hands.

Whenever she looked at her eldest son, her chest tightened with love. After losing two children, Fíli was surrounded with loving care. Sometimes Tauriel feared that they were smothering him but Fíli grew up to be strong in body and spirit as well.

When his leg was crushed, his spirit thrived. There weren't many things that would throw him off balance. He never despaired and never raged in anger. He firmly believed that there was always a way to overcome the difficulties no matter what they might be.

Angion cooled the metal and called for his brother to take a look. They were always like that. Despite their differences, they always looked to the other for advice or help. They made each other stronger.

Yes, Tauriel was proud. Her beautiful sons were strong and wise.

She just feared that this wasn't the life for them to truly thrive.

* * *

"What are you ladies talking about?" Legolas walked up to Dís and Thoriel who were sitting in the grass, Thoriel braiding her sister's hair.

"Nothing," they quipped in unison, trying to look innocent but their hardly contained giggling giving them away.

"Well," Legolas chuckled bemused. They were acting unusually… girly today. "If it was indeed nothing, Dís would surely not be blushing so ferociously." Legolas was sure that the girl was currently cursing her pale skin. He knew how Tauriel hated it. "Plus, you came an awfully long distance to braid your hair," he pointed out.

"It's all about the view, Uncle," Thoriel supplied with an impish grin.

For a moment the Elf looked confused. Surely, there were plenty of beautiful places around the house for the girls to lounge but when he turned around to take in his surrounding, trying to determine what was so special about it, it suddenly downed on him.

He let out an embarrassed chuckle, turning back to the girls.

"The view, I see," he cleared his throat. "I will leave you two, then, to admire… the view." And with that he left the girls to gawk unashamedly a group of town-men – half-naked and well-endowed town-men from the looks of it – who were cutting the trees further down the hill.

* * *

Thoriel looked at the twin swords in wonder.

"Go on," Legolas smiled at her. "They will not burn you."

The young woman reached for the blades, hesitating just a little before grabbing them in a sure grip and swirling them, learning their balance. They were perfect.

"They're perfect," she smiled then turned hesitant eyes on her uncle. "But…"

"You lost your sword to protect me. That is the least I can offer in return."

"You didn't have to."

"I know. But I was in Imladris and it seemed the perfect opportunity. I know you like when both of your hands are full," he smiled. He knew that while her brothers both preferred the heavy swords of the Dwarfs, Thoriel liked the slender design of elven swords. And, like her mother, she liked to have a weapon in both of her hands. "And there are not many smiths in Middle Earth who can forge such blades."

"Thank you so much."

"Now, you have to get used to them," Legolas cautioned. "They are not your average swords."

"Don't worry, Uncle. Practice is half the fun," she grinned, giving Legolas a peck on his cheek before running off. "Come on, Angion. I want to kick your ass."

Legolas smiled. She was her mother's daughter all right.

* * *

Tauriel watched on in amusement as her baby girl, after a surprisingly apt maneuver, tripped her father and stood above him with a triumphant look.

"Look at the little bugger," Dís scoffed good-naturedly next to her while mending a shirt. "She's getting real good with those things."

"That she is," Tauriel agreed. It seemed so strange – such a little girl with those axes. But, in spite of her small and slender stature – and really, in spite of her young years – she was wielding them with such expertise that made Kíli work for his money. And indeed, he was working up quite a sweat.

"You saw that, Naneth," Mirel called to her with a proud grin. "I kicked Adad's ass."

"Hey," Kíli protested, getting up from the ground. "Watch your language, young lady."

Dís snickered.

"That you did, love," Tauriel agreed, noting the proud look in Kíli's eyes.

* * *

"You look just like you did the day I first met you," Kíli told his wife, pushing a strand of red hair behind her ears.

"I am surely not," Tauriel smiled at him lovingly. Kíli always knew how to flatter her. "That was a long time ago."

"Aye, it was," he agreed, running a finger over the lines in the corner of her eye. He liked to think that they got there because she laughed a lot. Just like he liked to think that the strands of grey in his hair were because of his children. "But you're just as beautiful. And even more so," his finger found the scar on her neck that got there during a particularly nasty run-in with a pack of Orcs.

Tauriel kissed him. "You are no less handsome yourself."

* * *

Life was good, Kíli decided as he was sitting on the porch in the company of his wife and closest friends, puffing on his pipe contentedly.

It was a pleasant night with the starts twinkling merrily in the clear sky.

He looked around his family, because against all intends and purposes they were just that, through the thick smoke that gathered from the pipes they were all smoking… well, except for Legolas.

It was a strange sight, he imagined, a Dwarf sitting in the company of a Man and four Elves. And his kids weren't even there!

They went into town earlier to have some fun while the more "responsible" part of the family decided to settle down for a peaceful night.

After dinner, they gathered on the porch and the pipes quickly appeared one after the other. Elladan and Elrohir were arguing for a while about the best way to stuff a pipe while he and Aragorn just smiled from behind their already burning ones. Elves!

Legolas was still refraining from trying it – though one of these days Kíli would stick a pipe into his princely mouth. By Mahal, the twins were not such wussies about it. And while Tauriel didn't have one, either, she was content with stealing Kíli's from time to time, blowing such perfect circles from it that would put a Dwarf to shame.

Life was strange. But that was his life. And in moments like this, he wished that his brother would be there to share it with him.

* * *

Tauriel stood frozen to the spot. There was a piece of paper in her hand while others lay scattered on the desk. She just wanted to make some room on the table so she moved Dís' sketches a little when her eyes fell on something.

"Nana?" Dís appeared behind her and Tauriel jumped, feeling being caught. It was a strange feeling. Her daughter had been drawing ever since her tiny hand could grab a piece of coal and she'd never been particularly secretive about her art, either. And yet, now she felt she had invaded on her privacy. "Oh," Dís breathed when she saw what her mother had in her hands.

"I am sorry," Tauriel found herself stammering as she dropped the drawing. "I did not mean to…"

"That's all right, Nana."

"No, it is not. These drawings are private and I…"

"Are you serious?" she let out a disbelieving chuckle. "I'm living with a bunch of Dwarves. Privacy is not their strongest suits. You did nothing to apologize for. As a matter of fact…" she trailed off, suddenly seeming uncertain. "I was meaning to show you this," she picked up the drawing Tauriel had just dropped. "Is this possible?"

Tauriel's eyes were wide as her hand flew to her belly. She felt it, of course, the flutter of life in her womb but it felt so surreal. Her youngest child was almost thirty. She and Kíli hadn't talked about children in a long time… And yet… On the picture there she was heavily pregnant, laughing at the antics of Mirel and Angion. But that begged another question.

"You have the gift of foresight," she looked at her daughter stunned.

* * *

"You lost them again?" Dís looked at Angion in disbelief, Mirel snickering next to her. The large man managed to look lost and sheepish at the same time. "We just stepped out for a second."

"Don't give me that look. Those little rascals are worse than Mirel."

"Hey," the girl protested.

"They are, too. And I swear they have the ability to disappear into thin air. Those little demons…"

"Someone lost two little balrogs again?" Fíli appeared in the door, herding two red-headed toddlers in front of him. The twins, Dóra and Doran hadn't turned four yet but they were causing quite a headache for parents and siblings alike. If Kíli and Tauriel thought that they had their hands full with their three youngest children while they were growing up, the two Dwarf-sized Elves were seriously making them reconsider.

"Please, don't tell Nana," Angion pleaded.

"Don't tell Nana what?" Kíli joined the children together with Thoriel as they came back from shooting practice.

"I think they lost the twins again," Thoriel observed bemused at which a chorus of "wasn't me" broke out, only Angion remaining suspiciously silent. "Or Angion lost them," she concluded.

"Lost?" Kíli looked at the little girl and boy with pretended shock. "But they are standing right here." He discarded his bow and lifted Dóra and Doran into his arms when they ran to him. "Nothing to tell, right?" He was so whipped. "Look at them," Kíli squeezed the toddlers affectionately. "It was such a long time ago that you all were this tiny."

"Angion was never that tiny," Dís snickered.

* * *

Kíli groaned as Legolas pulled the large and very much dead Orc off of him. They could hear Tauriel curse as she pulled her dagger from another's head.

"They are getting bold." She turned to them.

"Dark clouds are gathering," Legolas agreed. "There is a growing disquiet in the White Council."

"Sauron is getting stronger, isn't he?" Kíli asked even though he knew the answer. It was difficult not to – foul things were crawling out from under the earth.

"I am afraid we are heading towards a war," Legolas said as an answer. "Dark forces are awakening. There are rumors about Sauron searching for the One Ring."

"But he can't possibly find it, right?" Kíli's eyes widened. "I mean it's lost… like no-living-soul-knows-where-it-is lost."

"We can only hope so."

"In any case, we have an imminent problem on our hands," Tauriel spoke up. "We should check the area for more Orcs, then we have to warn the Rangers. This is way too into the West for Orcs to venture. Way too close to the Shire."

* * *

"I was never meant to be the king," Kíli said in a low voice as Tauriel stopped next to him. It was already dark and the clear, star-lit sky promised a cold night.

Earlier that day, Elladan and Elrohir arrived bearing grave news: Dain Ironfoot had been slain along with his kin. Erebor and the dwarven kingdom was in disarray. There was a war coming and the North stood defenseless.

"But by right, you are. King under the Mountain."

"That would make you the Queen under the Mountain." At that Tauriel's eyes darkened somewhat which didn't escape Kíli's attention. He sighed. "But that you are not. You don't belong in the darkness. And I'd never lock you there."

"Don't think about me," she reached for his hand. "I would follow you to the midst of Mordor if that is where your journey takes you. But think about your children." That made Kíli's expression contemplative. "Fíli's eyes are always on the East," she smiled sadly. "And Angion, you know very well that our son is of iron. Maybe it is time they meet their people. And those people need you… maybe they need all of you."

Kíli closed his eyes. His wife was right, of course. Not all of their children took after their mother. Not all of them strived under the sun and the night sky. They were happy, he knew that. He wouldn't have it any other way. But he would be a fool to think that they'd found their place in this world. Maybe this was the way to help them… to bring them home.

Even if it cost him dearly.

"Then off to the Lonely Mountain we go. We have a kingdom to reclaim." After all he was Durin's heir. Nobody would contest that. And he had avoided his fate long enough. It was time to face his responsibilities.

"That we have." They shared an uneasy smile.

"We are going on an adventure," he said but this time, unlike all those years ago, his voice was filled with apprehension, not excitement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the War is finally here and both Kíli and Tauriel are sucked into it. As for the timeline, Gimli went to Rivendell because Sauron was asking around in Erebor about the Hobbits and he ended up going with Frodo and Co. to destroy the Ring. Dain is killed during that time when Gimli was away and the news about his fall reached Rivendell only after the departure of the Fellowship. Elladan and Elrohir knew that, with a war approaching, a kingdom in the North falling to disarray would be disastrous. Fortunately, they knew where to find the one person who had a legitimate claim to the throne.
> 
> So, next chapter, Kíli and family on the road!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry for the long wait! It was a difficult chapter to get through and I'm still not fully satisfied with it… I hope you will find some good moments in there, though._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"We should have left a note for Aragorn," Kíli mused as the small homestead slowly disappeared behind them. "Last time it took him years to find us," he smiled half-heartedly, not being able to shake the memory that the last time he set out on that same journey, he was with his brother and uncle. It was so bittersweet to think about all the excitement of a great adventure with which he and Fíli started their journey.

He had lost both of them on that adventure and he was terrified what would happen now that he was walking into the unknown with his family on his back.

He wasn't afraid of what would happen when they reached Erebor. Even with Dáin's family and other relatives of Durin alive, he had the strongest claim to the throne. And nobody would have disputed that had he walked into Erebor. At present, his right was basically uncontested.

What terrified him was the rising darkness.

He couldn't really understand all the powers that had been at play back then when they went to reclaim their home, and he could not possibly understand it now, but one thing was for sure. A dark and powerful enemy wanted Erebor to fall and it knew how to achieve it.

Without a legitimate claim to the throne, the Dwarves would fall into strife before they could face an enemy.

They had much more sinister matters to worry about than uniting a kingdom… they have to defend it from the enemy.

* * *

"We are doing what is right," Tauriel stopped behind Kíli, her front pressed against his back, and linked her hands on his chest.

"I know," he sighed, putting a hand on top of hers. "But it doesn't make it less difficult."

"It usually does not," she observed, resting her chin on top of his dark curls. "I am looking forward to it, you know," Tauriel decided to ignore the more obvious questions that must have been whirling in his head and concentrate on something decidedly more positive.

"To what?"

"Meeting your mother."

"Oh, that." He winced. "Way to point out the easily most terrifying aspect of our journey."

* * *

"What is it?" Angion asked when he noticed the shocked and frightened look on his sister's face.

Dís turned her wide eyes on him, then turned around to look for the others. Everybody seemed to be occupied with one thing or another so she beckoned him closer.

"What is it?" Angion landed with a thud next to her.

"Look." And with that, she turned the paper that was in her hand so that he could see the drawing on it.

"That is…" His blue eyes looked at her confused.

"The King under the Mountain."

"That's Fíli."

* * *

Tauriel had just finished a soft lullaby when she realized that there were tears in her eyes. She gave a reassuring look to Kíli who regarded her with concern, and kissed the red crowns of her twins, sleeping in her arms.

Whatever she might say, she was worried. Kíli knew that, too. They were after all leading their children through whole of Middle Earth and had no idea what they would find at the end of their journey.

That was why they had decided to leave Dóra and Doran in Imladris in the care of Lord Elrond. That was for the best, she told herself. Of course, that wouldn't make the parting any less painful.

"They will be all right," Kíli told her, smiling down at Mirel, who had laid her head in his lap. "All of them."

Tauriel nodded.

Yes, they would be. She and Kíli would make sure of that.

* * *

"Greetings, my friends," Lord Elrond walked down the stairs to greet his guests. He felt apprehensive. These days, guests did not appear in Imladris to bring good tidings. And he was still waiting for his sons to return after their hasty departure. "You are welcome in Imladris."

"Thank you, my Lord." A red-headed woman stepped forward and bowed her head with humble respect.

"An Elf," Elrond noted slightly surprised. "And a Dwarf," he turned to the man besides her before his eyes regarded the rest of the group. One of his eyebrow perked up in interest. "That is a strange company if I ever saw one…" He observed, turning back to the Dwarf. If he was not mistaken, maybe, this time, his guests did bring the light of hope. "Not mentioning, of course, the company of thirteen Dwarves and a Hobbit. So, what can I do for a presumably dead Dwarf?"

"You remember?" the Dwarf asked.

"I am afraid your visit was hard to forget, Kíli, Prince of Erebor."

"Yeah…" Kíli looked decidedly sheepish. "Sorry about that."

"Lord Elrond," the Elf spoke up. There was urgency in her voice. "You know my husband. I am Ta…"

"Tauriel of the Woodland Realm," Elrond finished. He knew too well that the strange red-haired Elf who, according to the tales and rumors, had disappeared with the Prince of Erebor all those years ago was the daughter of his friend. Not for the first time, he wondered if Thranduil knew what had become of them. He would not stop pester him about Legolas but he remained suspiciously silent on the matter of his daughter. "It is an honor to meet you at last."

Tauriel paused at the unexpected sentiment before she continued. "Lord Elrond, these are our children. We have come to request your help."

"And I will provide it," he looked at the family. "Come, have a rest. Then we will talk. We have much to discuss." It could not be a coincidence after all, that not a fortnight after receiving news of the demise of Dáin Ironfoot and all the immediate heirs to the throne of the Lonely Mountain, the only man who had had the strongest claim to begin with showed up with his family in tow.

* * *

There was children's giggling coming from the quarters of her father's unexpected guests. Two voices were protesting while tiny feet were pattering on the floor but the children's mischievous laughter was mixed with their parents' merry one.

It brought a wistful smile on her lips.

She instantly regretted her intrusion when, after her gentle knocking, the sounds died away.

"Lady Arwen," the red-haired Elf gasped at her before gathering the children to her to keep them at bay, and bowed her head. The Dwarf next to her followed suit.

"Please, not with the formalities," she waved her hand in a friendly gesture. "Not from the Princess of the Woodland Realm… and not from the woman my brothers call sister." The couple shot her a decidedly alarmed look. She smiled. "There may be things the two of them can hide from our father but they can hide nothing from me. Master Kíli," she turned to the Dwarf.

"What happened to the no formalities?" he asked sounding somewhat timid in her presence. Arwen tilted her head in agreement.

"And who are you two, little ones?" Arwen turned to the children.

The children instantly straightened. "Dóra," the little girl said. "Doran," promptly followed by her brother before giving Arwen a deep bow. "At your service."

The adults shared a bemused laugh.

"They are adorable."

"Don't let the cute faces deceive you," Kíli warned Arwen. "I have half the mind to throw them over to Mordor and let them solve this whole… situation."

"Kíli," Tauriel turned disapprovingly to her husband, but Arwen noticed that the corner of her mouth turned upwards in exasperated amusement.

"What? I'm right. Give them two days there and Sauron would beg for mercy."

Tauriel just shook her head with a loving smile then turn to their guest.

"Please, come in and join us. We were trying to sit down the children for breakfast."

Arwen gladly joined them.

* * *

"That is an exquisite pair of swords. Worthy of a princess of Erebor."

"I am no princess," Thoriel declared with a laugh as if the whole idea were absurd. Elrond regarded her for a long moment. They were at the training ground where Thoriel had found some privacy in the early morning.

"Indeed, you are not," he agreed finally with a knowing smile. "They are beautiful nonetheless. May I?" he asked for one of them and took it when offered. He studied it, then a surprised look crossed his eyes. "They were forged here. To Prince Legolas' behest if I am not mistaken."

"I lost my old one when we ran into a pack of Orcs a couple of years ago. Uncle insisted that I had saved his life so he had them made for me. He knew that I prefer them in pairs and your people is renowned for forging the best of them."

"Curious," Elrond remarked curtly, then offered the sword back to her. "Let us see how you wield them," he told her before reaching for a training sword.

They sparred for a time and Thoriel even thought that she had managed to impress the Lord of Imladris when, after a successful blocking on her part, the man gave her a pointed look.

"It was not your uncle who taught you," he started as they circled on the training ground. "Though, you definitely know his father's tricks."

"It was my Naneth. King Thranduil taught her well."

"Of that I am sure. That was not his move, however, was it?"

"You know it wasn't," Thoriel answered, standing off. She'd just realized that she had revealed more that she should have.

"And I always thought that my son has no patience for teaching," he remarked.

* * *

"Master Baggins," came the enthusiastic greeting that broke Bilbo out of his early morning reverie. He knew that voice, and he definitely knew that face which was suddenly before him, wearing a huge grin. He was just too dumbstruck at the moment to make the connection. He blinked. "By Mahal, it's good to see you, Master Baggins."

"Kíli, son? By the Valar, is that you?" Bilbo stood up and walk to his old friend.

"The one and only," the Dwarf beamed in front of the Hobbit.

"Indeed, you are," Bilbo smiled. Now, there was a story he wanted to hear. He had heard, of course, the tell-tale stories of the young prince's body disappearing but he suspected there was more to it than that. "You still have that smile."

"What smile?" His features straightened in confusion.

"That makes you seem all the time that you're up to no good," Bilbo laughed and, seeing his expression, he added, "Not my words. Thorin told me once."

The mention of the man stopped them for a moment but they quickly found that it was good to remember.

"I never could fool Uncle with my cuteness," Kíli laughed out and there was an accompanying snicker coming from somewhere. That was when Bilbo realized that his friend wasn't alone. Kíli noticed that and gently guided two red-headed Dwarflings from behind him. Except, they weren't Dwarflings, not really. They looked more like Elflings. They looked like Kíli's lady Elf if his memory served right.

Oh, but they had their father's smile. Kíli couldn't deny them if he'd wanted. "And who are these little ones?"

"This is Dóra and Doran, my youngest ones."

"And how many are there again?"

"Five. Without these two."

There was definitely a story he wanted to hear.

* * *

After lunch, Lord Elrond asked Tauriel to accompany him for a walk. They'd been walking for a while in silence when, following a deep sigh from Tauriel, Elrond spoke up.

"I suppose coming here raised a lot of questions in you… and I do not mean the ones concerning the purpose of your visit."

"I have just never thought that you and Thranduil were that close and yet you are talking about him like a dear friend… you are talking about me as if…" She was apparently at a loss so Elrond helped her out with a small smile.

"He loves you, child. There was no time when he did not talk about his sweet daughter with pride and love shining in his eyes. I do not know what exactly happened between you two but he regretted it the moment it happened."

"And yet he failed to change anything."

"He is a proud man."

"He is a selfish bitter man."

"He is hurting."

"He had hurt us," Tauriel snapped. "Stop making excuses for him." Then she stopped ashamed. "I am sorry."

"No. I am sorry if I crossed my boundaries. There is no excuse for his foolish and, as you said, selfish behavior. It was not my intention to make one. I only assumed that you would like to hear about him. I am not sure that it is my place but, unfortunately, there is no one else who could tell you these things. Except for him, of course. So, if you are willing, I am here to answer your questions. Now or whenever you are ready."

"Did you make this offer to Legolas, too?"

"I did… when he came to Imladris after the battle. He was unwilling to listen."

"I am willing," Tauriel quickly said and Elrond nodded, guiding her to a bench.

"I have known your father for a very long time," he started when they sat. "I consider him a really good friend. I admit that he is not the easiest person to be around but that would hardly surprise you if you had known his father. Oropher was not a pleasant man, especially not towards the Noldor. He and Thranduil had rarely seen eye to eye. But Thranduil loved the man. Unfortunately, as the centuries passed, he had become more and more like him. Cold, distant… and mistrustful. He was, however, nothing like that when we had met.

"Let me tell you a story. Your mother told me that not long after we had met in the Havens of Sirion.

"During the First Age, when Elves were battling the armies of Morgoth, the Grey Elves refused to have anything to do with the strife of the Noldor. They lived in Doriath, secluded and protected by a wall of enchantment and they paid little heed to the suffering of others. But there was a young Elfling among the Sindars who refused to turn a blind eye on the going of the world. One day, he rode out of Doriath with a small troop of warriors and headed North. It was particularly grim there after the Nírnaeth Arnoediad and his mind was set on aiding Elves and Men in that area. It was there that he met the serpent that almost took his life."

"He had never told us about that."

"I think nobody knows what exactly happen there… only he and your mother. They had met there, you know."

"I wish he had talked about that… that he had talked about Naneth."

"Losing her was devastating for him. Even more so that he felt such enormous guilt over her death," Elrond told her. "He is a strong man, Tauriel. He stood up when only a few would have. But everybody has a breaking point. And he had seen a lot of terrible things. He lost his mother when Doriath was sacked by the Dwarves and his brothers were slain by their own kin. All that tragedy made him more guarded. It made him follow Oropher to the East. Then he lost his father, too, and saw his army decimated. It is no wonder that after that experience, and having become solely responsible for the men, he was more careful. All he was trying to do was to protect his people. And I am sure that whatever he had done, he was only trying to protect you."

"He cannot protect us from everything," Tauriel said, standing up as she wiped away some tears. "Certainly not when he is pushing us away."

"I think he is beginning to realize that." Elrond followed her and stood by the carved railing of the balcony.

There was silence after that as they both seemed to have gotten lost in their memories.

"Thank you," Tauriel finally spoke up. "You are a good friend."

Elrond was just about to say something when some noise caught his ears. "Are those my sons smoking pipe with your sons?" He asked sincerely stunned as he found the source of the noise. Tauriel chuckled, wiping her eyes. "I can see it was not only teaching sword fighting to Dwarf-Elf children what they did in the North." Tauriel's eyes shot to him. "I met your daughter, Thoriel, earlier. You taught her well… but so did Elrohir."

"My Lord…" Tauriel started to explain but, lifting a finger, Elrond silenced her.

"I am not looking for an explanation. Contrary to what you and my sons might believe, it is not my place to make a judgement. If anything, I admire your courage to leave your peaceful life behind and come back."

"It was not always that peaceful… or safe," she told him, and he could see the worry that must have been her constant companion. "And I am afraid that it would never again be so if those who had the means did not do anything."

* * *

It was in the afternoon on the day following their arrival when the purpose of their visit finally came up.

Every one showed up for the afternoon tea, one after the other. Of course, Bilbo was the first one, promptly joined by Lord Elrond and Tauriel. The rest of the group was slower to appear but after Dís and Thoriel arrived with a profound apology, having spent the afternoon in the company of Arwen, the others joined them, too. And from the look of it, they hadn't been up to any good, Elladan and Elrohir being not exceptions, either.

Elrond arched an amused eyebrow.

"I am sorry for your loss, Kíli," Elrond finally got to the point when the conversation halted. Kíli nodded in acknowledgement. "It is a great loss for all of us. But fortunately, it seems, all is not lost. The last direct heir of Durin lives. Seeing that you arrived with my sons in tow," here he gave a pointed look to the twins who showed up only a couple of hours after his guests, "after their hasty retreat just after the grave news had reached us, I assume that this is the reason of your visit."

"That is right," Kíli agreed. "As it turns out, I'm the last hope of my people. Mahal help them."

"Tauriel mentioned a favor upon your arrival. I am ready to aid you in whatever way I can."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond."

"We would ask you to take in our youngest children," Tauriel spoke up. "We do not wish to subject them to perils unknown."

"I would leave the rest of them, too," Kíli supplied. "But they are a stubborn lot."

"I am sure of that. Rest assured that your children will be safe here and well looked after."

"We are most grateful, my Lord," Tauriel bowed her head.

"There are things, however, that you should know before you continue your journey to Erebor."

"The One Ring has been found," Dís suddenly spoke up alarmed, looking at Bilbo. Elrond regarded her for a long moment before answering.

"Yes," he nodded then started to relate the events that led up to the formation of the Fellowship that had started from Imladris not two months before. He did not mention, though, who were part of that Fellowship. In the light of that morning's revelations, he deemed it wise not to worry the family when they had their own quest. If he was not mistaken, it would be revealed soon enough. But until then, they had a road to follow.

"You can see now why it is so important to all of us for Erebor to stand strong once again," he conlcuded his account.

"The North stands defenseless without the Dwarves," Kíli summed up. "Great. No pressure there."

* * *

Kíli, Tauriel and Bilbo were sitting on a bench, quietly talking when the children walked up to them. They were in a merry spirit.

"Where were you, kids?" Kíli asked in a cheerful tone as Doran slipped from Angion's grasp and climbed into his father's lap. The boy was wet… and very much nude. "And why are the little ones without clothes?" As a matter of fact, all of the children looked as if they'd just left the bathes.

"We saw a fountain earlier. Thought it would be fun to take a dip," Angion gave him a wicked grin.

The look on Kíli's face was priceless. They wouldn't, really… Would they?

"Relax, my love," Tauriel smiled. "They have more common sense than you lot had last time," she remarked with a bemused expression. "They went to the pools."

"There are pools?"

Bilbo snickered.

* * *

"You have the gift of foresight," Elrond stopped next to Dís as she was standing on one of the balconies. She nodded. "What did you see?"

"My brother as the king of Erebor," she answered after a long pause.

"You are worried what it could mean."

"There is only one thing it can possibly mean."

"Never draw hasty conclusions from what you see," Elrond warned her. "What you see is only a part of the whole."

Dís nodded. "It scares me," she admitted.

"Dwarves are a resourceful folk. And I recon your father is more so… after all, he had married an Elf."

"That he is," Dís smiled fondly.

"What you saw had many ways to come true… and there might be reasons behind it you cannot yet see."

"It is all so confusing."

"You can stay in Imladris if you wish so," Elrond offered to the girl. "We can help you discover the full extent of your gift... teach you to understand it better."

"That is a very gracious offer, my Lord. But my place is with my family."

"I understand that. But remember that my offer stands."

* * *

"What will happen when we reach Mirkwood?" Kíli asked one night when they were sitting around the fire. They had left the High Pass behind the previous day.

All eyes turned to Tauriel, no doubt, all of them pondering the same question.

Tauriel had told the children about the Elvenking, about the man she remembered from her childhood and about the man he had become. She tried to remember the happy times but it was hard when the darkness lasted so much longer… and when the children had a neck for asking about things she wished to omit.

Truthfully, she was afraid what would wait her if they ventured into Mirkwood. For years now, she'd been harboring the idea of Thranduil changing, the look in his eyes at their parting on Ravenhill staying with her. But what if it had been only an illusion? What if everything she had heard of him from Lord Elrond was in the distant past and she had got her hopes so high that they would eventually crush?

She longed to meet the man who had been a loving father to her but she dreaded to meet the king who had banished her.

"One way or another, we will get through that forest," she told them the only thing she was sure of.

* * *

_Well, guess where next?_

_Thanks for reading!_

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a long wait but here we are: my favorite chapter. Yup, it's Mirkwood. I hope you'll like it.

"She is beautiful," Kíli stopped next to Tauriel, looking up at the statue that stood at the entrance of Mirkwood. The statement was true, however, Kíli suspected that the stone did no justice to the grace and beauty of the woman. And coming from a Dwarf, it said a lot.

"She is," his wife agreed with a sad smile. "You would have loved her," she looked at him.

"I would?" he turned to his wife. "You know her?"

"I did… a long time ago."

"Oh," he looked back at the woman and, after a few moments of scrutiny, it downed on him. "Legolas looks a lot like your mother."

"He does. Her eyes were darker and her hair more golden but, yes, he looks just like her."

"Not getting the dashing look from the king then, huh?"

Tauriel smiled.

* * *

They'd been traipsing through the dark woods for two days now, careful not to stray from the road, and Kíli could see the longing getting stronger in Tauriel's eyes. She wanted to go home so much and yet she could not.

It was unfair, he thought, getting off his ride as they made camp for the night: here he was, on the way home when he had no desire to go there, not under the circumstances at least. And there was Tauriel, just a stone's throw from her home unable to go there.

"Why do you think the King's Guard hadn't shown up yet?" Angion wondered out aloud. It was a just question. Nothing happens in Thranduil's realm without the king's knowledge.

"They did," Tauriel stated calmly as all eyes turned to her in surprise, except for two pairs.

"They did?" Dís asked alarmed.

"Yes," Mirel grinned. Her ears might be large like those of Dwarves but they were sharp like those of Elves.

"They'd been shadowing us ever since we entered the woods," Thoriel supplied matter-of-factly. "They are good… but not that good."

"Why haven't they took us to Thranduil yet?" Kíli asked.

"Who knows," Tauriel shrugged, staring into the darkness around them, for all intents and purposes, seeming unaffected. "Thranduil had always had a mind of his own."

"Maybe he wants to make sure that we get through safely," Dís tried. Kíli smiled at her lovingly.

"Maybe he wants to make sure we don't get into his way," Angion quipped.

"Maybe he wants to meet us and he is on his way," Mirel's eyes lit up by the prospect.

"I highly doubt that," Tauriel answered, this time allowing her bitterness to seep into her voice.

"You want to meet him," Kíli stated in a sympathetic voice, walking up to her and taking her hand.

"Oh, Kíli, I long to see him so much. But I am afraid of him shunning me."

"I can assure you that he would be most pleased at seeing you," a rich, deep voice contradicted her as a large figure emerged from the shadows. All, except for Tauriel, reached for their weapons at the sound of the intruder.

"Tauriel," Kíli called as they all watched her walk up in front of the impressing figure before bowing in front of him with due respect.

"My King."

"You're the king!" Mirel exclaimed excitedly, lowering her axe.

Thranduil tilted his head towards the small creature. The slightest trace of interest crossed his features before he dismissed Tauriel with a bored look and a roll of his eyes.

"No need for unnecessary formalities," he said turning back to her. "Come, I have had tents set up for you. You can rest for the night then we can return to my halls in the morning. We have much to discuss." And with that he turned and left just as abruptly as he had appeared. It was evident for him they would do as they were told.

"Charming…" Fíli raised an eyebrow as they looked after the retreating king.

* * *

"You seemed surprised at the welcome," Thranduil stated the next day as they walked towards the King's Halls, Tauriel besides him.

"Pardon my astonishment, my lord," she looked at him clearly surprised by his remark, "But you banished me. I expected cold looks and a colder cell not open arms and a warm bed."

"Again with the formalities," Thranduil sighed with exaggerated patience as if talking to a child. "And I did no such thing," he waved away her concern regarding her banishment with a bored gesture of his hands, seeming exasperated. "You know my flair for the dramatic."

That she did but she was spared to say so by Angion speaking up behind them.

"There was a struggle here," he observed the disturbed landscape.

"Calling it a struggle would be a gross understatement," Thranduil told them, a troubled look crossing his otherwise blank features. "Many of my men were slain that awful night."

"I thought no Orc comes into this forest and leaves it alive," Mirel quipped recalling the legend that surrounded the home of the Woodelves.

"Except for only when they are after my prisoners, it seems."

"Who did you have here?" Fíli inquired.

"A foul little creature."

"Gollum," Tauriel remembered Elrond's account of the search for the Ring before it turned up at his very doorstep.

"Apparently Mithrandil thought it wise to stow his precious foundling in my dungeons."

"Because you have such a great history of keeping your prisoners, apparently," Kíli laughed out then abruptly stopped when two pairs of elven eyes turned to him. They were not amused. "Sorry."

"You did not send him away," Tauriel turned to the Elven King with a glimpse of hope in her guarded eyes.

"I would like to say that there is no saying 'no' to Mithrandil… or that that ward of Elrond had a gift of speech but… things are not as they used to be. The world is changing," the Elf stated gravely.

"The world is becoming a darker place every day," Tauriel agreed.

"Yet, it is not only the world that is changing." The man looked at her before stopping and turning to the group just in front of the bridge that led to the gates to Thranduil's Halls. "I have spent a lot of time watching the world go by… but I have not bothered to see. My eyes are open now. There are a lot of beautiful things in the world," he said, looking over the family of his old captain. "But I worry."

"Darkness is coming," Fíli observed darkly.

"It is, son," Thranduil nodded. "And this time there is no place in Arda to hide." That made Tauriel and Kíli exchange a worried look. "This time, we shall all stand as one. We all have to fight."

"We're planning to do just that," Angion told the Elven King. He looked ready to take upon an Orc army all alone.

"Yes, you are." Thranduil tilted his head contemplatively. "You are to reclaim a kingdom broken apart. Your kingdom once again shall stand strong and proud." Thranduil addressed the last part to Fíli, then abruptly turned his head to Tauriel. "Yet, I have a favor to ask."

Kíli and Tauriel looked stunned by the king's choice of words. Thranduil does not ask for favors, he issues commands.

"Go on," Kíli told him.

"I gather you heard that a company of nine started from Imladris."

"The fellowship of the ring," Mirel supplied with twinkling eyes. Thranduil regarded her for a moment, almost seeming bemused. But his voice was as stoic as ever when he spoke up again.

"They need help. I do not know what awaits them but the darkness is upon us. They will need all the help they can get. Even more so now that Mithrandil is lost."

"Gandalf?" Kíli looked crushed.

"Words have it," he started bowing his head, "that he had faced a Balrog at Moria. It had pulled him down into the deep. He saved the rest of the group. He saved Legolas," the king added, his voice sounding small among the large trees.

"Legolas is there?" Tauriel asked bewildered.

"Lord Elrond did not tell us about that," Dís voiced what everybody was thinking.

"Elrond always tells you only which is convenient." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Protecting Middle Earth and all… I, on the other hand, am more selfish. Please, they need help. I cannot go."

"I will go," Mirel spoke up without missing a beat. "If uncle needs us, we will be there." There was general agreement among the strange assortment of Elf-Dwarf children and Thranduil felt oddly touched.

"We can't all go," Kíli pointed out uncomfortably.

"I will go either way," Mirel pressed on.

"Then I will go with you," Tauriel reached for her daughter's hand and squeezed it gently. Kíli's heart broke as he looked at his wife. He couldn't go.

"As will I," Thoriel added. The remaining three children looked at their father, a silent agreement passing between Dís and Angion.

"We continue our journey then," Kíli looked at them. "Without the Dwarves the North doesn't stand a chance." To his greatest amazement, Thranduil bowed his head in agreement.

"It is decided then," the king declared. "Please, take your time to rest. There is food in the dining hall. You can continue your journey rested and with all the supplies you need." He made to leave but then, he seemed to hesitate. "You are home here," he finally said before walking away.

"That was…" Tauriel tried to find the right words. "…unexpected."

"I like him," Mirel supplied merrily.

* * *

"Come, my love," Tauriel reached out a hand for Kíli to take after the family had finished their meal that awaited them in the dining hall as promised. "I have always wished to wander these halls with you."

Kíli took a quick glance at the children.

"Go," Angion waved them away. "I'm sure we'll find something to do."

"That worries me somewhat," Kíli admitted as he stood up.

"Come on, Adad," Mirel smiled at her mischievously. "You know we can behave."

"That you can behave that I know… That you will, well…"

"Anyway," Thoriel shrugged. "We are in the halls of Thranduil. What fun can we find here?"

This time it was Tauriel who looked slightly worried but she nudged her husband nonetheless and left the children to their own devices.

"Everything went so well so far," Kíli lamented as they left the children. "Do you suspect that they know the king has a wine cellar? I hope they won't end up in the dungeons."

"Don't worry,  _melleth_ ," Tauriel pulled him closer. "I have a feeling that everything will be fine."

"Well, I have a feeling that everything's just screwed up," Kíli added bitterly, though he knew that they were talking about two different things.

"Hush." The content smile didn't leave Tauriel's lips. "Let's just enjoy this evening."

"Tauriel, please," Kíli pleaded, coming to a stop and pulling the Elf to look at him. "Before we started, you told me you'd follow me no matter where my path would take me. And here I am, unable to follow you."

"Like I am unable to keep my promise," Tauriel countered. "Let neither of us take the blame for that. We go where we are needed. You do not need me."

"I always need you."

Tauriel gave him a loving smile. "Not for what you are about to embark on on your journey to Erebor. If it were so, I would stay by your side."

"And what about you?"

"Are you fishing for a compliment, my love?" Tauriel gave him a mischievous smile.

"Don't go cheeky on me, that's my special thing."

"Don't I know that?"

"I am serious here, Tauriel. Everything became so uncertain. I do not want for you to be so as well."

"There is nothing uncertain about my love, Kíli. You must know that." Kíli took her hands in his and squeezed them. "Take that with you and fight with the knowledge of that. And remember my promise that I will return to you."

"As I shall return to you."

* * *

Thranduil was wandering his halls when some noise reached his keen ears in the eerie silence of the evening. Following the noise that slowly morphed into a playful argument, the Elven King arrived to the dining halls where he happened upon the five children of Tauriel.

First he wasn't quite sure what the argument was about and really, he was just about to leave unnoticed, when he heard a voice speak up.

"I will gladly do you hair."

Five pairs of eyes turned to him and only after that did he realize that he was the one doing the talking. He cleared his throat and instinctively straightened. "I mean…" he started looking for a way out from the embarrassing and highly unnerving situation. "If you do not mind me doing so," he found himself finishing and simultaneously wondering what was wrong with him.

However, when the girl's eyes lit up – Mirel, that was her name, the apprehension about his predicament lessened somewhat, and it was with less trepidation that he sat down on the floor of the dining hall. He really hoped nobody would happen on him!

"Why are we braiding hair sitting in a line?" he finally asked what had bothered him ever since he sat down. He could not see the point in it.

"Dís and Fíli are afraid that we would end up in trouble if our hands are not busy," Mirel explained merrily.

"Would you?"

He could hear some snicker from down the row. Of course, they would.

"We were on our way to that famous wine cellar of yours when Dís sat us down," the taller of the two boys offered off-handedly. That boy was cheeky. And his sister really wise.

"Then I am merely saving my wine-stock at the moment," Thranduil mused as he braided on with a stoic expression.

After so many years, it felt strange to be so close to somebody… to make an effort to put a smile on a child's face. It felt good. And the happy chatter that ensued while the children's hands were busy almost made him smile.

"Now, it's your turn," Mirel declared to the king when they all stood up.

"I do not think so," Thranduil stated, feeling strangely trapped again in his own home. That family was running havoc with his life.

"Please…"

"Mirel," Dís warned her sister and Thranduil was grateful for that. "He said no. Respect that."

"No, but really," the girl insisted. "I can do it. I can make awesome braids, right?" She turned to her siblings. "Tell him! I would really like to do it."

"Mirel." Fíli's warning voice was more forceful than that of his sister's and as Mirel quickly clamped up, it was evident that it was not a tone the silent boy usually used.

The sullen face of the girl touched his heart, though, and he found himself wishing for her to smile again.

"All right," he drawled. "You can braid my hair."

Thranduil sat back down with apprehension. Nobody touched his hair ever since… Nobody dared to offer to braid it. But he set his jaw and let the girl get to work. The conversation was more careful after that. He suspected that except for Mirel, the children felt his unease so they treaded accordingly.

"You are sure you are not making a fool out of me?" Thranduil asked when his patience ran out after a while.

"Yup," Mirel nodded without her fingers pausing.

"That's Thoriel," Angion supplied. "She made me look like a carnival clown more times than I could count."

"That's why she usually starts the row," Mirel supplied.

"I will remember that," Thranduil said in a serious tone then turned his eyes to the snickering woman. "You seemed so nice."

* * *

The next morning, Kíli and Tauriel found the dining hall empty and they were told that the children had already left. Nobody could tell where they were at present, though.

"So," Kíli started conversationally when they finished the breakfast. "What do you think? To the dungeons?"

"I am sure we would know about that if they were there," Tauriel pointed out.

"My Lady Tauriel," an Elf appeared in the hall, giving a bow to the pair. "Your children are in the training hall with King Thranduil," he informed them then promptly left.

"You see," Tauriel turned to her husband. Kíli grinned. "What?"

"You are cute when you are embarrassed, my lady Tauriel."

"Nobody called me lady in hundreds of years. Now, come on, let us find the children."

"Yes... my Lady Tauriel."

"Oh, hush."

* * *

"Ada," Tauriel couldn't help it, the endearment slipped her lips unchecked as she caught sight of the king with his hair neatly braided. She had almost forgotten how young he looked with his silver locks pulled back in a half pony-tail, some of them lying on the top of his head in beautiful thin braids to meet in the back where they joined the rest falling down his back.

"What is it, my love?"

"That is how Naneth always used to braid his hair," Tauriel told Kíli who looked back at the king sparring with Mirel below in the training hall.

"What made him braid it now?"

"Not what," Tauriel smiled at him before turning her attention back at the sparring king. "Who."

"You are fighting like a true warrior, Little One." Thranduil chuckled impressed from his position on the floor after Mirel had successfully tackled him.

"That is my father, Kíli," Tauriel's voice broke as she looked down at her children and her father. Kíli reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.

"You have to be careful with that one," Fíli advised the tackled down king with a smirk.

"That is a fair warning, son," Thranduil remarked. "But I could have used it a little earlier."

Angion laughed as he pulled the king to his feet.

"She may be small but she has great strength," he told the man. "She plays dirty, too."

"I am impressed either way," Thranduil gave the girl an appreciative nod.

Mirel beamed.

* * *

"You're not what the tales tell about you," Mirel informed him with a merry grin, seemingly unaffected by the fact that she was talking to the king of the Woodland Realm.

Thranduil found himself not minding it. That young girl intrigued him from the moment he laid eyes on her. "And what do those tales tell about me?"

"That you are a stuffed up son of a bitch."

"Blunt," the king remarked in a flat tone but his features showed the traces of bemusement.

"Nana always tells me to think before I open my mouth," Mirel agreed with a nod, her eyes twinkling, not at all ashamed.

"A wise advice."

"So… You're… like… my grandfather, right?"

For a long time, Thranduil regarded the girl with a strange expression. She looked so much like her mother, rougher around the edges, though. His heart ached.

He remembered a tiny little girl, once, a long time ago, who had always looked to him whether she was happy or in distress. A little girl who loved him, trusted him... called him 'Ada'. A little girl whose laughter filled his days.

He was so happy back then.

But that was all before his world turned desolate.

He had lost that little girl a long time ago.

He had no right claiming the title this tiny creature was offering him .

He was about to refute the girl's claim when his eyes fell on a figure in the shadows. It was Tauriel, watching their exchange. He expected her to be angry but the expression on her face was not tense.

He must have looked lost for an answer because she nodded to him, giving him her approval to proceed.

Thranduil looked back at the girl in front of him then nodded. "Yes," he finally answered slowly. "I suppose you are right." Hardly had he finished his sentence when the girl pulled him into an enthusiastic embrace. His eyes bulged in surprise and, for a moment, he stood frozen. But he quickly found that Mirel's crushing embrace warmed his heart like nothing in a really long time, so he slowly put his own arms around the small frame of the girl.

When he dared to look at Tauriel, he saw tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips. She was happy… and his world seemed so much brighter for it.

He clung to the girl, his eyes not leaving her mother's, which Mirel noticed when she let go of her grandfather.

She perched on her tiptoes then, and pressed a kiss on the man's cheek. "She loves you," she winked at him, then passing her mother, she left to join the others.

* * *

Tauriel gave Mirel a proud smile as the girl passed by, giving her and Thranduil some space. Slowly she walked up to the man and turned her head to follow his gaze that rested on the children as they merrily bantered while packing up and leaving the dining hall.

"They are a merry folk."

"That is the dwarf blood in them."

"It is a blessing in times like these. The merriment… the warmness of family." Tauriel looked at the man surprised. "There was a time when you called me father."

"It seems so long ago," she observed, running her fingers over his messy braids. She knew what it meant for him to let his hair be braided like that… like her mother used to braid it. At that moment he looked so much like the father she remembered.

"I know my actions were inexcusable," he reached for her hand and she watched as he cradled it in his larger ones, "but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive to a bitter man."

He sounded so much like her father, too.

She didn't know what to say. She didn't even trust her voice to work. But she was spared the answer.

" _Aphado nin_ ," Thranduil told her in a law voice as, still holding her hand, he started to move. His hold was sure but Tauriel knew she could free her hand if she wished so. She did not. She was not sure where all that was going but she was sure to cherish the moment with her father as long as it lasted.

They moved swiftly through the halls, ignoring the looks they got. Tauriel was fairly sure that Thranduil hadn't even noticed them. There was a look on his face she hadn't seen in a long time and she was transported back to times long gone when she and Legolas were stealing these same halls, clinging to their father, being up to no good.

She smiled, having realized their destination.

They came to a stop by a large tree. Their tree.

Thranduil tossed his heavy robe unceremoniously on the ground then, with a ghost of a smile, he looked at Tauriel. "I hope you still remember how to climb a tree." And with that he was gone. Tauriel was frozen for a moment, a flash of memory of her, Legolas and Thranduil climbing the highest trees appearing before her eyes. But then she followed him, smiling all the way up.

The air was crisp on the top and the view breathtaking.

"Your mother always chided me for letting you two run wild," Thranduil said with a stoic expression, looking in front of him before sparing a look at the woman next to him and giving her a rare, almost playful smile. "I would not have had it any other way."

"Neither would she," Tauriel remembered. Although the queen seemed to be the stern one when it came to the children, she would have never denied them the freedom they so enjoyed. For the queen and the king, it was the carefree laughter of their children that lit up the always darkening woods. "I miss you… both of you."

Thranduil's features became solemn once again as he brought up his hand and caressed Tauriel's cheek. "Even if you are not bonded by blood, you are so much like her in spirit." His hand fell away and he turned to look out at the waste expanse of forest. "When I lost her, I lost my way, too. All I could see was the darkness descending on our world and I was terrified. There had been so much loss already and I vowed to her memory to protect our people from it… to protect our children. My greatest fear was losing you two… my most valued treasures. But all I achieved was to lose both of you. I was so blind." He turned back to her then with an unguarded look. "I was such a fool to shun your light from my life. But even if I have to work for thousands of years, I will endeavor to regain it. I need your light… yours and Legolas'… your family's… now more than ever."

"And you shall have it," Tauriel told him, taking his hand into hers. "I will bring Legolas back, I promise."

* * *

"May the stars guide you on your journey and return you to us safely," Thranduil said farewell to the little group ready to depart only five days after their arrival into Mirkwood.

"Don't worry, grandpa," Mirel grinned up at the large man whose features considerably softened in the last couple of days. "I will sure return."

"And I will wait for you, Little One." And, once again, the little girl now familiar embrace enveloped his midriff. Thoriel gave him a warm smile and a nod over Mirel's head, which Thranduil returned.

When it was Tauriel's turn to say goodbye to the Elven King, it was the man who pulled her into a hug.

"I love you, my dear daughter," he breathed into her hair and let a small smile grace his lips when he felt Tauriel tightening her hold on him. There were no more words exchanged between the two of them but, with a simple parting look, there were millions of promises exchanged.

* * *

"You seem awfully accepting of Tauriel's choice of life…" Kíli stopped by Thranduil as Tauriel and his daughters disappeared from sight.

He shifted awkwardly.

Truth was, he had no idea what he was talking about. Dís and the boys had already left and he was left standing with the stoic king with whom he'd never been left alone before. It seemed a good idea to strike up a conversation. That was, after all, way better than standing in awkward silence.

"Somehow I always imagined if you were ever to forgive her, you'd make your forgiveness dependent on… you know… forsaking the Dwarf she married." He shrugged with a sheepish look.

Thranduil arched an elegant eyebrow.

Or maybe not such a good idea.

But Thranduil surprised him.

"She had made her own choice as so many times in her life. And, as so many times before, it was not to my liking. But even I have to admit, she had never made a wrong choice, foolish maybe, but never wrong."

"You sound terribly contemplative… even for an Elf."

"I had a lot of time to think," Thranduil admitted, clapping his hands behind his back but not offering any more.

Silence stretched between the two men.

"You came to any revelations?" Kíli chanced the question.

"I did." Thranduil nodded then long silence settled on the couple once again.

"Care to share?" Kíli couldn't help it. He was a curious person by nature. And he'd never really known when to stop, either.

Thranduil arched an eyebrow but did not deny his request.

"I have become the king I swore never to be. I had been always aware of my father's faults… and I fell for all of them. I stood for everything I had blamed him for and I criticized my children for everything I had been once. There was a time, Master Dwarf, when I would not have stood for isolating my people from the world and when the strife between our kin would not have diminished my love for the one my heart had chosen."

Kíli watched as he bowed his head as if facing the past had been difficult.

"I was there… on Ravenhill," Thranduil continued, lifting his head and looking at Kíli. "I saw what had transpired. Tauriel had been granted the greatest gift: the gift of being able to save the one you love. So many are praying for that gift… and yet, so few prayers are answered."

"You couldn't save your wife," Kíli realized and watched as Thranduil's features darkened with grief that was as fresh as ever.

"I could not." He bowed his head as if in shame. "It seems true love is not always enough. Maybe I was not strong enough… Tauriel, however," he suddenly raised his head and directed his cold blue eyes at the Dwarf, "She was strong. She always had been. And if the Valar had validated her love for you, I had no right to oppose it. And truly, as a father which I had not been for a very long time, I might have lost her but I, at least, knew that she would be happy."

"You've never lost her… not for a moment."

Thranduil nodded in gratitude then they were enveloped in silence once again.  _By Mahal_ , Kíli thought exasperated,  _the man was not an easy one to have a conversation with_.

"I was never meant to be a king, you know." Kíli's thoughts were just about to wander when Thranduil spoke up abruptly. "I had three older brothers… all of them more fit to succeed my father than me. But the future is uncertain. My father was not a king among his people, yet, he had found a realm to rule. As an Elf, he had lived many a century but in dark times, even my kind perishes. He had lost three sons before he died and there was none but his youngest to take on his responsibilities."

"I always lived my life without the burden of responsibility," Kíli admitted. "I'd never thought that one day I would be king… and even now, I can't help but feel that this is not my path. Can you imagine me as a king?"

"My opinion does not matter in this question. The Dwarves need a king they recognize. If you are that king then so be it. I have only one concern: my daughter. She may have chosen a Dwarf for a husband but she does not belong in that mountain."

"Don't you think I know that? She'd never be happy there," Kíli voiced what he'd already known. "And neither would I... not anymore. But I do not know what other choice we have. Unlike last time, we are out of options here."

"There are always other options, Master Dwarf. However, it is true that they may very well be just as unpleasant as the most obvious one. In any case, whatever the future holds, you have the support of the Woodland Realm."

"Thanks... I guess."

The corners of the king's mouth turned slightly upward as he turned to leave.

"For whatever it is worth..." he started when he was facing the Dwarf. "I am sure you would be a just king."

Kíli nodded at the unexpected compliment.

"A just king," he murmured as Thranduil left. "And an unhappy one."

"Options, Master Dwarf. Options." The king's words echoed in the waste halls.

_Options..._  Kíli pondered. There was another option, that was true. But Kíli only let himself go there once. It was not an option he was willing to consider and he was sure Tauriel wouldn't like it, either.

He would rather bear the burden of a kingdom he had left behind so long ago.

He would do it... for his people... for his children... for Middle Earth.

**TBC**

_So that was it... A long chapter and, yet, I didn't get to address so many things. Maybe elsewhere..._

_Thanks for reading! I'm so glad that you are still with me._


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